


forever is in your eyes

by latenightcoffeetalks



Category: Archie Comics & Related Fandoms, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Communication is Sexy, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Recreational Drug Use, Smut, and he paints betty's nails its all very cute, and so is oral ;), because um...food?, end of the world AU, jughead gets his nails painted, lots of food talk, oh yeah and theres some, post 4x19, technically, the betty + veronica + cheryl friendship we deserved, though i doubt this will actually happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:33:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27081994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/latenightcoffeetalks/pseuds/latenightcoffeetalks
Summary: “I’m sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”She makes to turn around but he stops her with a hand on her shoulder. The contact is startling.“It’s okay,” she replies. “Are you coming with me?”“If that’s still alright with you.”She nods, turning the handle fully. She continues ahead and he falls into step beside her, shouldering his duffel and readjusting a tote bag in his hands (she thinks it’s litter but she’s not sure). A cat carrier is swinging lightly from his hands, Mars’s brightly colored eyes gazing at her through the mesh.She hadn’t really thought this through. She hadn’t planned on coming back with him, and though she’s sure Veronica will be more than pleased with this turn of events, Betty’s not sure she’s ready to spend the last week of her life with her ex-boyfriend.But as she slides into the driver’s seat, meeting his deep blue eyes, she thinks it can’t betoobad.or, seven years later and it's the end of the world
Relationships: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones, Cheryl Blossom/Toni Topaz, Veronica Lodge/Reggie Mantle
Comments: 26
Kudos: 78





	1. there's no me without you

**Author's Note:**

> i...have so much to say but i will be putting all my thoughts into the notes of the second chapter (which will be posted next week)
> 
> so many thanks to so many people. to kate, anna, and lisa for listening to me drone on and on about this story for months and gave me input and idea -- y'all are the fuckin best i love you (special thanks to lisa for making me a beautiful moodboard <3)
> 
> thank you to sadieeee for, like, everything??? for bouncing out ideas with me (i took into account everything but the cat. the cat has fur, sadie, i'm so sorry). i appreciate you, and i love you <3
> 
> and as always (literally), the biggest thank you to janet. my wonderful beta and friend, i'm so grateful for you. this fic would not have happened without your constant support -- i love YOU forever <3
> 
> alrightttt lez get into it! please please please heed the tags and the rating!

It started with an earthquake. It was small, but it shook the whole world for ten minutes, knocking pencils off desks and sloshing coffee out of mugs. As Betty crouched under her desk at work, avoiding eye contact with her co-workers, she knew it. This was the end. 

The reports came the week after. She heard it first from a worried Veronica, who had banged on her door at 5 am. 

“5 weeks, Betty. We’ve got 5 weeks.”

Schools and workplaces have closed down. The only shops open are 24/7 convenience stores, and even those were ravaged a week after the news.

Now, as she sits at her kitchen counter slowly sipping her coffee, she feels calm. She doesn’t have much to live for anyways -- not if everyone else is dying too. She isn’t going to try and find a way to stop it. 

Maybe, a couple years ago, she would’ve. But now she has nothing to fight for. No _one_ to fight for.

Sighing, she downs the rest of her coffee. Veronica had called her yesterday, insisting Betty come over to the penthouse she shared with Reggie. 

_“If the world is ending, I might as well spend it with my best friend and boyfriend, don’t you think?”_

She makes her way to her bedroom where her duffel bag is laying, open and empty. Veronica had ordered her to bring everything necessary and anything personal, which really wasn’t much. A week's worth of her best pajamas, a locket from her mother, and a letter from her therapist, letting Betty know that she could contact her whenever. Though, Betty thinks, that perhaps the end of the world is not what Gina meant. 

She rifles through her drawers, searching for anything else she’d like to keep with her on her last week on Earth, when her fingers meet a scratchy piece of wool.

Slowly, she wraps her hand around the fabric, bringing it out of the drawer. It has held up throughout the years, a few stray strings sticking out awkwardly, but it’s still the same beanie she remembers knitting in her room. The same beanie _he_ had thrown at her feet all those years ago. 

In the back of her mind, she was aware that it was sitting underneath her shirts, hidden away (out of sight, out of mind). During her first couple years of college she would leave it on her bed, or her desk. Sometimes her mind would trick her into thinking that he was there.

She shakes her head, willing the tears to vacate, to retreat back into her eyes. She’s wasted too much time crying over Jughead Jones, and she’s not going to waste her last days.

She drops the beanie back into her drawer, leaving her bedroom in a hurry. She heads to her couch, picking up her laptop from the cushions. She drops down and quickly opens up Google. Before she can think about what she’s going, she’s typing his name into the search bar. 

She’s never done this before. 

Veronica has tried to tell her how he is, what he’s been up to, but Betty has shut her down each time. She doesn't want to hear about the new girlfriend he’s sure to have, or his highly successful career. She’s already bought two copies of his book. That’s enough. 

The book is not about her, of course. It’s not about them. There are no mentions of her at all, other than a small line about “the girl next door”. She doesn’t blame him. After everything, she would have been surprised to find her name on the pages. 

The novel itself is beautiful, but the dedication was the part that gave her goosebumps. _The pieces I am, she gather them and give them back to me in all the right order._ A quote from Beloved, still the novel she holds closest to her heart. She is stronger now, but the thought of Jughead, writing this dedication with another girl hovering at his shoulder -- she shudders, pulling her thoughts back to the task at hand. 

Veronica is expecting her in an hour, so Betty sets her focus onto her computer. J. Jones wasn’t the right search, only showing interviews she’s already watched and reviews she’s already read. Jughead Jones gets her clearer results, but are mostly just blogs raving about his novels. Finally, she types in the only other name he goes by.

There it is. Forsythe Jones, NY. She knows he lives here, of course. She’s never seen him around, so she assumes he doesn’t live near her. She digs a little, clicking on links and shortening her searches. Eventually, she finds what she’s looking for. 

_Forsythe Jones: Tribeca, New York City_

Holy shit. He’s been living 15 minutes away from her this whole time.

She shuts her computer quickly, making her way to her bedroom once more. She tosses her computer into her duffel gently, zipping it shut.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the beanie, lying in her still open drawer. Without a second thought, she grabs it, throwing it into the bag so it lands on top of her computer. She zips it shut and throws it over her shoulder. She slips into her shoes and slams the door behind her, not bothering to lock it. She won’t be coming back anyways. 

\---

Reggie opens the door to let her in, taking her duffel from her arms and throwing it over his back. 

“Coop! We were wondering when you’d show up.”

Betty has found an unlikely friend in Reggie. The summer that Jughead had broken up with her and Veronica fled to Paris for “space”, she had spent the majority of her time with the star athlete. He planned on attending Riverdale Community College, so he had no problem wasting his summer away with her. They spent their days under the fixing engines under the hoods of cars, or sharing fries in a booth at Pop’s. He was surprisingly good company for someone who she could so easily dub their high school’s bully. 

“Sorry, I got caught up in something,” she replies. 

Reggie raises an eyebrow. “Caught up in what?"

She’s saved from responding by Veronica bounding into the room, promptly bringing Betty in for a tight hug. 

“Oh, Betty, I’m so glad you’re here with us. I’ve invited Cher and Toni as well. It’s going to be the best last week ever!”

When the news of the “apocalypse” first broke, Veronica took to channeling her inner Veronica Mars, investigating and trying to stop the apocalypse. In time, with lots of help from Reggie and Betty, she resigned to the fact that they were all going to die. It seemed like a sign -- if Veronica Lodge could accept that the world is ending, the world is ending.

“Toni?” Betty questions. “Does she know that I’m here as well?”

Following her break up with Jughead, their joint friends started to take sides, with the exception of Veronica, who managed to stay close with them both. Toni, along with the rest of the Southside students sided with Jughead. Betty’s circle dwindled down to Veronica, Kevin, Reggie and Cheryl, who often found it hard to maintain peace with her girlfriend-now-wife while discussing the topic of Betty and Jughead. 

“Of course, B,” Veronica says easily. “It’s the end of the world! There’s no time for grudges, darling.”

Betty thinks back to the beanie hidden in her duffel and hopes Veronica’s right.

\---

She’s been standing outside his door for 15 minutes. Idly, she hopes he doesn’t have any sort of video surveillance; if she eventually decides to leave, this would be an awkward memory from them both to die with.

She raises her fist, keeping her thumb between her fingers to stop herself from digging her nails in. She takes a deep breath and raps her hand quickly against the brown door. 

She hears commotion through the door -- a loud “fuck” and the sound of something falling. There’s a banging from the other side of a door, then it opens quickly, the rush of air making her hair fly. 

“Betty?”

His hair is disheveled and he has his pointer finger in his mouth. There’s a few drops of blood on his white tank top, and he seems to have tried -- and failed -- to rub it off. 

She raises her hand and waves. “Hi, Jug.”

\---

He doesn’t have a girlfriend, she learns. He hasn’t told her so much, of course, but she can tell. His apartment smells like coffee and nicotine, and is littered with crumpled up balls of paper. The windows are shut and covered with curtains, despite it being a warm summer day. The apartment lacks any trace of a woman’s touch, and Betty tries to push down the hopeful sensation that bubbles in her stomach.

“So, uh, what are you doing here?” he asks. 

He’s dressed his wound, deftly placing a black Hello Kitty bandaid on his finger. He had tripped and cut his finger on the jagged edge of his dresser, he told her. She smiled warily in response, and worried internally why his dresser has a jagged edge.

She opens her mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. She doesn’t really have a reason to be here. But she has a week to live, and she’s not going to waste her time.

“I guess I wanted to say goodbye,” she says carefully. “I never got the chance to.”

“To say goodbye?” he repeats. “You came all the way over here to say goodbye?”

“Actually, I live just 15 minutes away. East Village.” She gestures aimlessly to his window. 

He raises an eyebrow. “I know that. But you’re staying with Veronica this week, right? Her apartment is a half hour away.” She notices how he says “this week,” as if there’s going to be a week after. She wonders if she should question him, but decides against it.

She also chooses not to comment on the _I know that_ . After all, she did search him up.  
  
“How did you know I’m staying with her?” she asks instead. 

“I was invited.” The words aren’t harsh but she winces anyways. Clearly, she’s the reason he declined Veronica’s invitation. 

“You should come back with me,” she says, though she knows he’s going to disagree. “You should spend your last week with your friends.”

“I don’t think that’s the best idea,” he says warily. 

“I do,” she argues. “You shouldn’t be sitting alone in your apartment when the world ends.”

“I am not _alone_ ,” he shoots back. The look in his eyes is almost playful as his gaze moves behind her. She turns to see a small, lanky black cat stalk into the room.

“You have a cat?” she asks in surprise. 

In lieu of responding, he pulls out a pouch of cat treats, shakes it, then opens it, all the while cooing to the cat. 

“C’mere Mars, come to Juggie.”

Betty watches in awe as the cat slowly makes it’s way over to Jughead. Once it’s in reach, he pulls a treat out of the bag, then sets it down to scoop the tiny cat up in his arms.

He feeds the cat the treat, rubbing it’s head gently. “This is Mars, he/him,” he introduces. “Mars, Betty. Betty, Mars.”

Betty moves closer, reaching a finger out to rub behind his ears. “He’s adorable. Did you get him from a shelter?”

Jughead shakes his head, smiling softly as Mars cuddles closer into him. “I found him, abandoned, in a box in an alley near West Broadway.” Jughead’s voice goes softer. “He kind of reminded me of myself. Alone.”

Betty wonders if he means at the time, or before. Possibly both. 

“Anyways, I got him checked and everything,” he continues, voice now at a normal volume. “I’ve had him for about two years now.”

“That’s great, Jug.” The nickname slips out and they both freeze. She steps away from him, only now aware of their close proximity. 

“I should get going,” she says. “And I really think you should come with me. You could bring Mars. Cheryl loves cats.”

“I-” he trails off, looking around his apartment. “Fine,” he relents. “Give me ten minutes to pack up my stuff. Would you like a coffee?”

“I’m okay,” she says. She takes a seat on his couch, moving some papers off the cushions. He places Mars down gently, then rushes out of the room. 

Betty bends down, coming to eye level with the cat. Cautiously, she reaches a hand out. Mars tentatively comes towards her, lightly rubbing his face against Betty’s palm. Betty hears him purr tenderly, before brushing against her legs and settling down against them. Betty peers at the cat, drawing her attention to its eyes. She hadn’t noticed before, but they are two different colors -- blue and green. She snorts lowly. The irony is not lost on her.

She wasn’t aware that was a feature in cats, and it only draws her to Mars more. It is so like Jughead to adopt a cat he found on the streets. He used to tell her about his old sheepdog, Hot Dog, who had died when he was younger. Jughead, or at least the Jughead she knew from seven years ago, had always wanted a pet, a companion. Someone to stay with him. She used to be that for him.

A soft thud from the other room snaps her out of her thoughts. Gently sliding her feet away from Mars, she slaps herself upside the head internally. She’s here, in his apartment, after _seven_ years. She has no right to be thinking those thoughts. 

She walks through the hallway, locating the door in which the sound came from. She looks back to see that Mars has followed her, coming to rest once again at her socked feet. She smiles, raising her hand to knock on the door. 

“Jughead?” she calls. “Everything alright?”

“Come in,” she hears him reply.

Diffidently, she opens the door. Mars trots past her, joining Jughead where he’s sitting on the floor. 

They’re in what she assumes is his bedroom. It’s simple, nothing extraordinary. Very Jughead. Dead plants have been placed on the windowsill over piles and piles of books. His desk is cluttered with pens and papers, and she can see the edge of a coffee mug’s stain peeking out from underneath them. Jughead is in the middle of the room, clothes thrown haphazardly along the carpet. He has an empty duffel set out in front of him, save for a couple of flannels and S t-shirts. 

“Why haven’t you started packing?” she asks. 

He looks up at her, dejected. “What are you doing here, Betty?”

She falters. “What do you mean? You--”

“I don’t mean _here,_ in my bedroom. Why did you come? Why couldn’t you just let me be?”

“I don’t--”

“I was _fine_. I was ready to go. I was ready for the world to end. You- I didn’t want to see you.”

“Jughead--”

“Stop, stop talking.” He looks away from her, raising a hand. 

She can feel the tears spring to her eyes. She knew it, she knew she shouldn’t have tried. 

“I’ll go,” she says softly. 

Mars mewls, pawing at Jughead’s elbow. It’s a shame she hadn’t met the cat before; she has a feeling he’s warmed up to her. 

Jughead doesn’t respond, still looking down at the floor away from her, so she clears out of the room herself without being asked. She grabs her purse that was thrown on his counter, grabbing her phone from the pocket. She texts Veronica, letting her know that she’d be home soon. Veronica responds immediately with a series of emojis and a _how did it go?_ Sighing softly, Betty leaves the text without a response, tucking her phone back in. 

She’s turning the door handle, ready to leave without him, when she feels his presence behind her. He’s not too close, but close enough that she can feel his breath on her neck. She shivers softly and hopes he doesn’t notice. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

She makes to turn around but he stops her with a hand on her shoulder. The contact is startling. 

“It’s okay,” she replies. “Are you coming with me?”

“If that’s still alright with you.”

She nods, turning the handle fully. She continues ahead and he falls into step beside her, shouldering his duffel and readjusting a tote bag in his hands (she thinks it’s litter but she’s not sure). A cat carrier is swinging lightly from his hands, Mars’s brightly colored eyes gazing at her through the mesh. 

She hadn’t really thought this through. She hadn’t planned on coming back with him, and though she’s sure Veronica will be more than pleased with this turn of events, Betty’s not sure she’s ready to spend the last week of her life with her ex-boyfriend. 

But as she slides into the driver’s seat, meeting his deep blue eyes, she thinks it can’t be _too_ bad. 

\---

Veronica, as expected, is ecstatic that Jughead has decided to come. 

“The more the merrier,” she sings into Betty’s ear, wrapping her best friend in yet another hug as she arrives back at the penthouse. Veronica has become very touchy since the news of the end of the world. Betty has never complained though; she’s grateful for Veronica’s presence in these hard times.

Cheryl and Toni arrived when she was out. Her cousin greets her with a hug and chaste kiss to the cheek; Toni with a curt nod before making a beeline to Jughead, no doubt grilling him on why the hell he showed up with Betty. She has no doubt Veronica and Cheryl are wondering the same thing, but she’s thankful they are waiting until they’re alone. 

“Coop!” Reggie calls for her from the kitchen. “Would you come help out here? I need your culinary expertise.”

Grinning, Betty gently drops the mesh carrier she had taken from Jughead onto the floor, quickly unzipping it to let Mars out. She pulls her hair up into a ponytail as she walks into the kitchen. 

She finds a sauce-covered Reggie wearing an undersized apron when she enters. She giggles, grabbing an apron for herself from the well placed basket near the doorway. 

“What the hell happened, Reggie?” she asks, turning so that he can tie her apron. 

“Turns out spaghetti isn’t as easy to make as you would think,” he says, pulling the knot tightly. He spins Betty around, directing her attention to the pot of sauce. 

She holds a hand out. “Where are the noodles?”

He places a box into her hands. “I didn’t know when to put them in.”

“And why aren’t you asking Vee for help? I know she’s no me, but she’s perfectly capable of managing some pasta.”

Reggie sighs, running a hand over his face. “I just want to do something special for her, you know? We’ve got a week left, and I feel like she’s been spending so much time planning this time for all of us that she hasn’t fully comprehended it herself.”

Betty nods, pouring the dry noodles into the pot. “I’ve noticed that too. I’m eternally grateful for her planning skills, but I agree -- she needs to take a step back.”

“Exactly,” Reggie says, taking off his apron and throwing it onto the counter. “So, what’s happening with you and Jones?”

She blinks rapidly, furrowing her eyebrows amusedly. “I didn’t take you for a gossip, Reg.”

He shrugs. “I know I’m no Vee or Cher,” he says, mocking her previous statement, “but I care about you. I don’t want you to make,” he pauses, considering his next words, “rash decisions.”

Betty stirs the noodles nonchalantly. “Nothing is happening, really. I went to his apartment this morning, just because. I found out Veronica invited him, and told him he should accept the offer.”

“That’s it?” Reggie asks. “No tension? It’s been, what? Seven years?”

“Yeah,” Betty confirms. “Seven long years.”

“Well Coop,” he says as he slings an arm over her shoulder. “All I know is that it’s been seven years since I’ve seen you as bright as you are right now.”

“What are you talking about? I’m _normal_.”

“It’s in your eyes,” he says, poking her in the shoulder. “They’ve got this twinkle to them.”

Betty shoves him off herself, blushing. “Get off me, you goof. And take this spoon, it’s your damn pasta.”

\---

Surprisingly, Cheryl is the one to bring Jughead up. Betty expected Veronica, but she’s too busy helping Reggie figure out how to bake garlic bread. 

“So,” her cousin starts. “Jughead and you? On again?”

They’re sitting on the balcony, looking down on a view of the city. The New York sun is glaring at them harshly, so they both opted for tall glasses of iced lemonade. 

“Nope,” Betty replies. “I went to see him in the morning. For closure, I guess.”

“And how did that go?”

“As well as could be expected.”

Cheryl hums beside her. “I know I haven’t always been the best cousin and friend to you, Betty. But I do care about you, and I think you deserve only the best.”

Betty’s heart warms. “Aw, Cher. That’s so sweet.”

“Which is why,” Cheryl continues. “I don’t think you should bone Jones.”

Betty blanches. “What? Why?”

“Aha!” Cheryl exclaims, bringing her feet off the railing in front of them to turn to Betty fully. “So you admit you were going to try something with him?”

“No!” Betty says, startled. “I’m not, I swear. But why don’t you think I should?”

“I was with you, after prom night. Veronica had gone with Kevin and Jughead had gone to confront,” she hesitates, not wanting to say his name. "You know who,” Cheryl says gently. “I saw you. Without Jughead, you were incomplete for so long. But you’ve learned how to live without him now. You don’t _need_ him.”

“I don’t need to be _here_ ,” Betty counters. “We’ve got a week left, Cher. What’s the harm?”

Toni steps into the doorway, knocking her hand against the glass. “Pasta is ready, girls.”

Cheryl stands up, shooting Betty a disapproving look before following her wife back inside. Betty sips on her lemonade languidly, propping her feet on the railing once more. 

“So I see Cheryl hasn’t changed at all since high school.”

Betty turns towards the voice, finding Jughead leaning casually in the doorway. She motions to Cheryl’s vacated chair, and he takes a seat. 

“You don’t see her much?” Betty asks.

“Nope,” Jughead says with a shake of his head. “I don’t see her at all. Toni likes to keep us apart, for fear of a full blown argument destroying their apartment.”

Betty chuckles. “Well, she wouldn’t be wrong, would she? You two used to butt heads like rams back in high school.”

“I guess,” he says. “But we’ve both matured now. At least, I hope so.”

Betty smiles at him. “I like to think we have.”

Jughead coughs awkwardly. “Have you, uh. Are you seeing anyone, then?”

Betty chokes on her lemonade, recoiling away from the drink. "No! No, I’m completely single. Painfully single, really.”

Jughead looks away from her, suppressing a grin. “Painfully?”

She glares at him, bringing her straw to her mouth once more. “And you?” she asks with much more grace. She is almost certain of his answer, thinking back to the state of his apartment.

“Painfully single.”

She smirks at him, opening her mouth to comment, but Veronica comes through the doorway, angrily waving a spatula at them. Her hair and apron are covered with red sauce, and she smells suspiciously like garlic. 

“You two! Get the hell back inside before I drag you by the ears myself.”

Betty and Jughead stand up hastily, trailing behind Veronica to the makeshift dinner table. There are three tables of varying heights and lengths pushed together, sets of mix matched chairs placed on all sides. Betty laughs openly at the sight of Reggie trying to sit on a high chair that’s been placed behind the smallest table. 

She sits down at an evenly matched chair and table, Jughead taking a seat across from her. Veronica sits next to her, placing down a fancy pot filled with spaghetti. There is much more sauce than there are noodles, but Betty pats Veronica on the back and sends a thumbs up to Reggie before taking a large amount on her plate. Betty feels something fluffy touch her foot under the table, and she looks to Jughead questioningly. He peeks under the table, smiling broadly as he reaches down and brings out Mars, who’s cuddling slightly into him at the sight of new people. He coos softly at the cat before placing him down on the ground. Betty watches as he trots away and into Veronica’s bedroom.

“WIll anyone else be joining us?” Jughead directs his question to Veronica.

Betty looks over to her best friend, who’s very clearly fascinated by their limited interaction. “Nope. Inner circle only,” she says. “Does this pasta taste bland to you?”

Jughead opens his mouth to answer, but Betty kicks him under the table. “No, Vee. This is perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fic title from what a heavenly way to die by troye sivan and chapter title from you are the traffic by COIN <3


	2. all i do is sit and think about you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what is self control?
> 
> (please note the character death tag, its the end of the world kids)

Monday passes in a blur. Cheryl takes over the kitchen, enlisting Betty and Veronica to help her make the perfect lasagna dish. It turns out okay, but they decide to make pancakes for dinner. Simple, and hard to mess up.

The evening brings Kevin to the penthouse door. He barrels in without knocking, rushing to engulf Betty and Veronica in tight hugs. 

After quick greetings, Kevin drags the two girls into Veronica’s bedroom, slamming the door shut with finality. 

Toni quirks an eyebrow at Jughead. “Want to help me with dinner?”

Jughead shrugs, following her into the kitchen. She hands him an apron, tying one onto herself. 

“Do I really need to put this on?” he asks, eyeing the purple piece of cloth warily. 

“Veronica’s orders,” Toni says, bringing out a skillet from under the counter. “Grilled cheese sound good?”

“Perfect,” he affirms, pulling on the apron. 

“So.” Toni reaches into the fridge for the bread. “I was waiting for you to come to me on your own, but I’m sensing that won’t happen. Are you going to tell me _why_ you arrived with Betty?

Jughead rolls his eyes at her, taking the piece of cheese she hands to him. “You already know why, I’m sure. She came to my apartment to talk, _just_ talk, and convinced me to join you guys.”

“Right, of course. It was a nice pleasant conversation between two exes who left things on a very good note,” Toni says sarcastically, placing the bread and cheese onto the hot skillet. 

“Look, not that it’s any of your business.” Jughead pulls the apron off. “But I’m not planning on starting anything with Betty. I came here to have a good time with my friends. Not be interrogated.”

“Jug,” Toni says with a sigh as he storms out of the kitchen. 

He’s being dramatic, he knows that, but Toni’s being annoying and he really doesn’t have the tolerance for her questions. He was telling the truth when he said he didn’t intend on starting something with Betty. But, if she were to start something, or it happened on its own, he wouldn’t say _no._ He’s spent the last seven fucking years missing Betty, he’s not going to pass up a chance because they’ve only got a week left. 

“Jug!” Veronica beckons him over to the couch where she’s sitting with Betty. 

They must have finished gossiping with Kevin because he’s nowhere to be seen. _Speak of the devil,_ he thinks as he walks over, plopping down beside Betty. She looks up at him from where she’s shuffling Uno cards, smiling softly at him in greeting. 

“Join us for a game?” she asks him. As if he could ever say no to her. 

“Sure,” he says casually. “Are we playing eight cards or fifteen?”

“Fifteen,” Betty says. “Eight is boring.”

Veronica nods in agreement, holding a hand out. Betty wordlessly hands her the deck, clearing off the table so Veronica can deal the cards out. 

“So, Jug,” Veronica starts. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you in _ages_.”

“You saw me last week,” he says, confused. 

Veronica subtly moves her eyes to Betty, who is scrolling through her phone. Her finger is twirling her delicately through hair, and her already short pajama shorts have ridden up so that the creamy skin of her thighs are in full view. 

Snapping his eyes back to Veronica, he raises an eyebrow questioningly. Veronica widens her eyes, gesturing comically with her eyes. “She doesn’t _know_ you, Jughead,” Veronica whispers stealthily as she hands out cards. “You need to tell her about yourself.”

Jughead nods in understanding, picking up his pile. 

“So,” Veronica says again. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” Jughead says stiffly. “I uh. I bought some almond milk yesterday. Thought I should try it before I die.”

Betty looks up from her phone, picking up her own pile and sifting through the cards. “Almond milk? Wow, what a daredevil.”

“Hey, there are a limited amount of foods I haven’t tried,” he argues. “I want to try them all before Saturday.”

“Have you ever had edibles?” Cheryl’s voice calls out. 

Jughead’s head swivels rapidly, trying to find a face for the voice, then finds her walking in from the balcony. Unlike the rest of their friends, Cheryl is dressed impeccably in her usual flashy clothing. 

“Like, weed?”

“No, dipshit, gummy worms.”

“No, I haven’t,” he ignores her jab. “Have you?”

“Of course I have. It’s basically a rite of passage.”

“For what?”

“It just _is_ ,” Cheryl says with an air of importance. “You should add that to your never-ending food list.”

He looks to Betty and Veronica, who both offer him lame shrugs in response. “Why not,” Betty says. “Could be fun.”

“ _Fun?”_ Jughead says, aghast. “That shit is the devil's lettuce."

Veronica snorts, placing a green 8 down. “Alright Mr. Straight-Laced, It’s your turn.”

Jughead places a green 3 down. “Reg, hey, man. Help me out here. We are _not_ getting high.”

Reggie looks over from where he’s rifling through a box of video games. “I dealt that shit in high school, man, then swore off it when my dad found out.”

“Yes, _exactly_. We can’t let Reggie get addicted again!”

“Woah, hey, I didn’t say I swore off weed. I swore off _dealing_ ,” Reggie corrects himself. 

Jughead slumps down against the cushions, throwing a red 3 into the middle pile. 

“Aw, Jug.” Betty places a consoling arm on his thigh. “We won’t let you get out of control. Promise.”

Jughead’s eyes drop down to where her hand is still placed on his thigh. He forgets to respond, reveling in the comfort of the touch. 

When his eyes finally meet hers again, she removes her hand hastily. 

“Is it my turn?”

\---

Turns out, Cheryl brought edible weed gummies along with her. They gather in a circle on Veronica’s bed, and Jughead wonders if this is what their sleepovers were like back in high school. He was never allowed, not even to drop Betty off or pick her up. _It’s girls only till the end,_ Veronica always insisted. 

“So you just...pop ‘em in your mouth?” he asks, eyeing the square shaped gummies. They're cherry flavored, in true Cheryl Blossom fashion. 

“Correct,” she affirms. They each pluck two out from the small tin, holding them carefully in the palms of their hands. Cheryl, Toni, and Reggie down them immediately, chewing easily and humming in appreciation. Betty, Kevin, Veronica, and himself are cautious. 

Really, the worst that could happen was that he’d die. And that was bound to happen in a couple of days anyway. 

He nudges Betty, who’s sitting beside him.

“On three?”

She nods, eyebrows adorably scrunched together with tension. He offers her a soothing smile then starts to count down. 

“Three...two...one.”

They slip the red gummies into their mouths together. Jughead chews down slowly, expecting a bitter taste, but it tastes like a normal, cherry gummy. He looks at Cheryl quizzically. 

“The effects only set in in about 30 minutes to an hour,” she explains. “So if there’s anything important you need to do, I suggest you guys do it now.”

His eyes snap to Betty, but she’s already looking at him. He knows there is a conversation they need to have, and they should be having it while sober. 

But maybe, he thinks as she turns to Veronica and starts giggling, it’ll be easier when they’re in a different state of mind. 

\---

They’re on the balcony again. He’s not sure he’s high yet, but he feels...weightless. He’s not really thinking, but he’s also thinking a lot. It’s different, but he likes it. 

Betty is staring off into the distance. The sun has set fully now, so the only light that falls on them is the cars and streetlights below them. He hasn’t gotten to take a full look at her since seeing her on Sunday. Though they’re in a faint light, he can still make out her features. Her hair is longer, a given, but her eyes and her lips are the same he remembers from years ago. She looks older and more refined. He wishes now that he didn’t let her leave without him. 

She turns to him, smiling sadly. As if she can read his thoughts, she starts. “At first, all I felt was anger. At myself, at you. And then there was just loneliness. Somewhere in between was sadness, but it didn’t feel like a phase. It was more of a weight that I carried with me for years.”

“I don’t have a good explanation for why I did what I did, other than I was stupid and young. I hadn’t once doubted our future together, but I was…” she trails off. “I don’t know. I was just stupid. So fucking stupid, for so many years.”

“I think, for some reason, Archie was somewhat of an anchor. Not in the way you were, but an anchor of familiarity. But even then, when I was pining after him, year after year -- I’ve never loved him like I love you.”

_Love. Not loved._

“We never gave it a shot, in case you were wondering. I haven’t spoken to him since prom.”

She looks back ahead, away from him. He’s supposed to speak now, he realizes. 

“I was also angry. At the both of us. In the beginning, it was mostly you, but as the years passed it was more on myself. For letting you walk away. I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have-” he clicks his tongue. “The beanie. I shouldn’t have thrown it at you. But at the time, it felt like it was _tainted_.”

“I know what Veronica has told you, but the feeling of being second best to Archie was fleeting. In the back of my mind, I think I always knew it was you for me, and me for you. I knew that Archie wasn’t important, not in the way I was to you. But it was the only explanation that I could find to make sense of why you would ever-” he stops himself. There’s no need to dig up old memories. This conversation means closure for both of them. 

“I forgave you a long time ago,” he continues. “Maybe around the time I found Mars. His eyes always reminded me of you. Sometimes just looking at the green grounded me.”

“I noticed that,” she whispers. “The green and the blue.”

He nods. “I named him Mars because I always thought of you as Persephone. Venus, in Roman form.”

She gasps softly turning to him again. “Juggie,” she giggles. “I think I’m high.”

The nickname, one he hasn’t heard in so long, seems to catapult him towards her. He’s out of his seat and pulling her up in a second. 

"Jug,” she whispers. “What are we doing?”

He leans his forehead against hers, relaxing in the feel of him against her. It’s been so _long_.

“I don’t know,” he whispers back. “I think I’m high, too.”

She chuckles again, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“I don’t want you to regret this when we’re sober,” he says. 

“I don’t regret anything when it comes to you.”

Closing his eyes, he leans down to connect their lips. He almost gasps at the feeling of her lips on his because it’s so familiar yet so foreign. It’s what he’s longed for and dreamed of for seven years and it feels like a weight has been lifted off his heart. 

He deepens the kiss, bending her back slightly. Their noses bump slightly and they both giggle. He feels like a teenager again, giddy and in love. He can’t wait any longer, he _needs_ her. 

“Betty,” he whispers. “Can I take you to bed?”

She nods, winding her arms tighter around his neck. “Oh, Juggie,” she says dramatically. “I thought you’d never ask!”

He rolls his eyes at her dramatics, picking her up easily and opening the balcony door. She’s placing light kisses along his collarbone, and he can feel himself growing harder by the second. He forgets his friends are all sitting in the living room, high off their asses. 

He pauses, adjusting Betty in his arms. She’s lazily making her way up to his neck, grinding softly into him, paying no attention to their gaping friends.

“Will we need headphones?” Veronica asks.

Jughead tilts his head to the side instead of shrugging; he doesn’t want Betty to stop her kisses. “Possibly?”

Veronica groans. “I am _high_.”

Jughead ignores her, walking him and Betty both into the bedroom Veronica had assigned him. He places her gently on the bed and she whines when he walks away.

“We need condoms,” he informs her, then pauses. “Wait, no we don’t.”

Betty smiles lazily at him. “That’s right.”

He pulls his shirt off, making his way back to her. He kisses up her collarbone, the same way she had done before. Slowly, he pulls her shirt off, eyes widening when he sees she’s not wearing a bra. 

“What?” she asks when he looks up at her. “There’s no need! It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

He disregards her, returning his focus onto her breasts. He remembers how to do this, how to _be_ with someone. Sure, it’s been a couple of years, but it’s like riding a bike. 

He lowers his tongue down onto her nipple, circling around it. She withers beneath him, hands coming to thread into his hair. He groans when she pulls on his hair, taking her nipple fully into his mouth.

“Juggie,” she moans. “No foreplay, I need you inside me.”

He smirks at her, releasing her nipple. He stands, fiddling with his belt buckle as she slides down her pajama shorts and panties in one go. He wants her, _so bad_ , but he wouldn’t be able to die happily without knowing he’s pleasured her fully one last time. 

He places his hands at her hips, pulling her down to the edge of the bed. She props herself up on her elbows, blushing down at him when she realizes his end goal.

“Juggie, you don’t have to- Ah!”

His mouth is on her nipple, the other one this time. He’s unbearably hard, but he kisses down her body anyways. He’s satisfied if she’s satisfied. 

He peppers kisses around her stomach, inching down until he meets her core. He slides a finger through her heat, marveling at how wet she is. 

He places his mouth over her clit, licking lightly at the nerve. Then slowly, he sticks his tongue into her center, sucking gently.

“Juggie,” she gasps, winding a hand into his hair again. Her back arches up and he places a hand firmly on her hip, pushing her down. 

“I need you to stay quiet for me,” he says gruffly, lips still pressed against her core. “Our friends are just next door, Betty. You need to stay quiet. Can you do that for me?”

She nods, gasping for words as he inserts a finger, still lapping lazily at her slickness. “I need you to say it, Betty.”

“I can do that,” she breathes out. “I can stay quiet.”

“Good.”

He continues to work her until he feels that she’s close, if not by the way she’s struggling not to moan loudly above him, then by the way her thighs are closing tightly around his head. He doesn’t mind. Being suffocated by Betty’s thighs would be a heavenly way to die.

His lips wrap around her clit, sucking harshly, all premise of gentleness thrown away. “Let go,” he says, two fingers still thrusting into her at a fast pace. “Let go for me, Betty.”

She comes, with a muffled scream into her palm. He rides out her orgasm, letting her fuck herself on his fingers and face. He takes it all like a champ, lapping up as much as he can.

Eventually, she stills, panting heavily. He’s still hard, even more so than before. Her eyes are closed, and she’s breathing hard, chest heaving up and down. 

“That good?” he asks smugly, lying down on the bed next to her.

Her eyes snap open, though only halfway. She seems hazy, but she reaches for him anyway. “Shut up, Jones.”

He grins, pulling her body on top of his. They melt into each other, losing themselves in the night.

\---

The act itself wasn’t what he was nervous about. The morning after though, he isn’t sure if he can handle it. 

He considers slipping out of the room before she wakes up, but that’s a dick move and he would have to face her eventually; they're living in the same apartment.

He opens an eye, peeking down at her. She’s sleeping soundly on his chest, clad in a clean pair of his boxers and his t-shirt from last night. She sleeps the same way he remembers -- a deep breath in through the nose and a short breath out of the mouth. It’s as endearing as it was seven years ago. 

Surprisingly, he remembers their conversation from last night. He didn’t think that you could recall things that happened when you were high. It was part of the reason he wanted to have the conversation then.

 _Food_ , he thinks. _Everything is better with food._

He moves slowly, lifting her head onto a pillow and sliding out of the predictably comfortable guest bed. He covers her with a blanket, placing a soft kiss onto the side of her forehead, then exits the room.

Veronica is sitting at the kitchen counter, already awake and sipping on a cup of coffee. 

“Morning,” she greets. 

He nods at her in acknowledgment. “Do you have any pancake mix?”

She points to a cabinet above the sink. “So, did you two have a good night?”

He plucks the box from the cabinet gracefully, unbothered by Veronica’s snooping. “I hope so.”

“Sounded like it.”

He empties the mix into a bowl. “Anything else you want to ask me? I know you must have a million questions.”

She tilts her head at him thoughtfully. “I do,” she says. “But none important. Just,” she pauses. “If you’re going to do this, do it right. Seven years in four days is a lot of time to cover.”

“I know that,” he says, whisking an egg into the mixture. “But what’s the worst that could happen? We die unhappy? Alone?”

“Why don’t you see that you have friends behind you, Jug?” Veronica asks, sadness laced through her voice. 

“I know that,” he says carefully.

Veronica shakes her head. “I don’t think you do. After prom, you didn’t have to be alone. You pushed away _everyone_. Sweet Pea, Toni...me.” She takes a long sip of her coffee, sliding out of the chair. “If there was anyone who knew what you were going through, it was me.”

She leaves, wrapping her long sweater around her tightly. Jughead turns back to his bowl and dips a finger into a creamy blend. He pops it into his mouth, turning the gas on for the pan.

He had always had a turbulent relationship with Veronica. In high school, most of their interactions were arguments about her parents and their shady business. Frankly, they didn’t spend enough time together for his first impression of her to change. Throughout their time in high school, his mind never wavered from the sense that she was a spoiled rich bitch. 

But over their college years, she had poked and prodded at him until he finally opened up. Not just about that night, but about everything. Along with Veronica, he had found a friend in Reggie. Toni had once called Reggie ‘Archie’s replacement,’ but he was quick to correct her. Reggie was different. Archie was always like a brother to him, but at times, Reggie feels more like family than Archie ever had. 

As far as he knows, no one in their group has been in contact with Archie for years, other than Reggie, who studied alongside him at Riverdale Community College. According to Reggie, his scholarship for the Naval Academy was conditional, and he couldn’t make the needed grades. _Figures_ , Jughead remembers thinking. He was never all that smart anyway. 

“Are you making pancakes?”

He turns his head to find Betty padding into the kitchen. She had changed out of his boxers and into her own pajama shorts, but kept his shirt on. 

“You were supposed to stay in bed,” he replies. 

She shrugs, coming over to wrap her arms around his waist. She tilts her head up, reaching her neck up. “Good morning.”

He leans down and places a kiss on her lips with a smile. “Morning.”

“Before you put them on the pan, can you fold blueberries into the batter? I’m sure Vee has some here.”

“Blueberries?” he asks. “You were always a plain pancake kind of girl.”

The words slip out before he can stop them, and he slaps a hand over his mouth. She separates herself from him, clearing her throat. 

“I like blueberries in my pancakes now.”

“Shit, Betty, you know I didn’t mean--”

“I know,” she says. “It’s both of our faults we haven’t spoken in years.”

He quiets himself, willing her to go on as he brings out a box of blueberries from the fridge and emptying it into the batter. 

“Cheryl was talking to me on Sunday before you joined me on the balcony. She told me to be careful with you,” Betty begins. “I guess it makes sense because I was a mess in my first year of college. My second, too, if I’m being honest. I was constantly thinking about you, and Riverdale and how I fucked everything up.”

“But then, at the beginning of my third year, Toni came to my door.” She smiles a little as if she’s reliving the moment. “She told me that Cheryl had sent her, or else she wouldn’t have placed a foot in my apartment. She handed me a book wrapped in newspaper and told me to open it after she had left. It was your book,” Betty’s voice softens. “I’m so proud of you, Jug. I wish I could have told you that then. You deserved to hear it."

“Uh, thank you,” he says quietly, scooping batter onto the pan.

“Anyways, back to my sob story,” she says with a chuckle. “I read your book, bought two copies of my own, and then I got my life on track. Started my own private investigation firm then moved out of Ronnie’s apartment and into my own.”

“That’s great, Betty.”

“It was.” She nods happily. “And I was happy and content, but I still thought about you often.”

“I thought about you too,” he offers, slipping a pancake onto her plate. 

“Thanks,” she says sarcastically, grabbing a fork and knife he hands her to dig into her pancake. “But anyway, all in all, it was hard,” she mumbles through a mouthful of food. 

He laughs at her, pouring more batter onto the pan. “If Alice Cooper could see you now.”

She freezes mid-bite. She hasn’t spoken to her mother in years. Not that Jughead would know that. 

“Shit,” he says quickly, noticing her discomfort. “Did I say something wrong? Fuck, I keep saying the wrong things today.”

She waves him off, swallowing her mouthful. “Don’t worry about it. We just haven’t talked in a while.”

“Seven years while? Or just a couple of weeks?” he says ironically, but she can sense a little bit of contempt beneath his words.

“You need a filter on that mouth, Jones,” she says, trying to lighten the conversation.

He cracks a smile at her, flipping the pancake. 

“Not seven years,” she continues smoothly. “But a couple. Maybe 4?”

“4 years? What happened?”

“It was inevitable.” Betty shrugs. “Things were always tense after she came back from the Farm. I’m sure you remember.”

He nods. “I guess that’s why you were never at the house during the holidays.”

“Partially,” she agrees.

He blinks up at her. “You should have called.”

“What?”

“You never called me. Or texted. I would've accepted a letter or a post-it note, but you never sent anything.”

“I didn’t know you wanted me to call.” Betty holds out her plate for another pancake. He slides one on and turns off the heat under the pan.

“Honestly, I didn’t either. But seeing you on Sunday, and being with you now, here -- I think I missed you a lot more than I thought I did.”

“Aw, Juggie,” Betty coos, leaning up from her seat for a kiss. “You’re so sweet.”

He smirks at her. “Keep it down, Betts. I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

She raises an eyebrow at him appraisingly. “May I remind you that you have a cat?”

“Cats are tough pets! Especially Mars.” Jughead unties his apron and looks around the room. “Where is that little furball anyways? I need to feed him.”

Betty follows his line of sight to the living room but sees no lanky black cat with colorful eyes. “Uh, where is Mars?” she asks, turning back to Jughead. He reaches into a small black bag that he had brought with him and pulls out a can.

“Jug, he’s not here-?” she trails off as Mars trots into the room, nose up. The black cat heads straight for Jughead, who’s pouring the contents of the can into a bowl. “How did you do that?”

“He heard the can open,” Jughead says, placing the bowl down. 

“No way,” Betty says, shaking her head.

“He did!” Jughead argues with a grin “Mars is a smart little one.”

Betty rolls her eyes and slips out of her chair. “I’m going to go wake Veronica and Cheryl. Might as well get the interrogation over with.”

He stays quiet, not sure if he should mention that he’d already talked to Veronica this morning. He decides not to, moving his face towards hers so she can plant a kiss before leaving.

“We’re telling them, right?” Betty asks quietly. She’d do anything he wanted now that she finally has him back, but a big part of her wants him to say that he wants to show her off, even if it’s just to their friends.

“Of course,” he responds easily. “Why wouldn’t we?”

_Because you don’t want people to know we’re repeating history? Because you’re ashamed?_

“No reason.”

\---

This time Veronica brings it up. As soon as Betty knocks on the door, Veronica is pulling her in and shoving her towards the bed. In the back of her mind, she’s reminded of last night with Jughead. Her face heats up and she falls back down onto the fluffy comforter, reaching her arm out for a pillow and clutching it to her chest. She feels like a teenager again, giddy after firsts with Jughead.

Veronica flies out of the room, appearing again a second later arm in arm with an annoyed Cheryl. Betty lifts her head in greeting, then promptly plops it back down. 

“So,” Veronica prompts. “Tell us how it was!”

“Personally, I don’t particularly _want_ to know how it was,” Cheryl butts in. Veronica swats her in the bicep, to which Cheryl pokes her in the ribs in retaliation. Once again, it makes her nostalgic for simpler times. 

Of course, times in Riverdale were never simple. Ever since they were 15, they faced struggles that just got harder and harder each year. She never gets nostalgic for those times. The crying, the scheming, the pain she felt in every part of her body -- it wasn’t something she was fond of remembering. What she does want to remember are the moments when she was alone with Jughead: either at Stonewall or at their house on Elm Street. Fondly, she remembers meeting up with Kevin at Pop’s and gossiping about the latest. She remembers the sleepovers with Veronica and Cheryl before they left for college. She’ll always have to carry Riverdale with her, wherever she goes. She just tries to cover the bad memories with the good.

“It was amazing,” she confesses. “I dunno, it was so familiar but at the same time so different.”

Veronica nods understandingly. “That makes sense,” she pauses. “But how _was_ it?”

“Oh my god, Vee, I don’t know how he does those things with his tongue.”

Veronica squeals and Cheryl grins, amused. “That’s enough of that,” Cheryl says. “I don’t need to know more than I already do.”

Betty stills. “What?”

“Oh, I just-” Cheryl cuts off. “It’s nothing.”

“No, tell me,” Betty insists. “No secrets, end of the world, all that.”

Cheryl shares an uneasy glance with Veronica before saying, “Jughead had a girlfriend a couple of years ago. Sabrina. She was one of my friends from college and they met once at a party. They were only together for a couple of months.”

Betty mulls this new information over. It’s not like she hasn’t gone on any dates or had any significant others since high school. They haven’t spoken in years, and she doesn’t own him. She’s not going to let a small part of his past affect their present. 

“It’s okay,” Betty says carefully. “I’m not mad or anything.”

“Okay,” Cheryl says, confusion evident in her tone. “Why not?”

“We weren’t together,” she says obviously. “It’s been seven years and frankly, I would be worried if he hadn’t been with anyone.”

“As far as I know, you haven’t been with anyone either, right?” Cheryl asks. 

Betty nods. “Nothing that serious.”

Cheryl places a comforting hand on her thigh. “You’re sure about this, Betty?”

Betty smiles, turning Cheryl’s palm up and lacing their fingers together. “I am.”

“Then I support you.”

“Thank you, Cher,” Betty says sincerely. “It means a lot.”

Cheryl nods, removing herself from Betty to open Veronica’s bedroom drawer. She rummages through as Veronica settles next to Betty. 

“Betty,” she says softly. “I’m really going to miss you.”

Betty tilts her head in question. “We’re both...leaving, Vee.”

“But in our next life, the one where I’m not Veronica Lodge and you’re not Betty Cooper. I’m really going to miss you.”

Betty feels her eyes soften and she moves her head to lay on Veronica’s shoulder. “We’re B & V, Ronnie. We’ll find each other in any lifetime.”

\---

Kevin takes leave on Wednesday, hugging them all, even Jughead, tightly while whispering sentiments of love. They all tear up a little, bidding Kevin goodbye and watching him drive slowly away from the penthouse. 

Jughead comes up behind her and wraps his arms around her, nuzzling into the crook of her neck. “Want to head to bed?”

She moves her head, forcing him to look up at her. “It’s 2 o’clock, Juggie.”

“So? I’m feeling a nap.”

Betty rolls her eyes. “You’re just hungry. We can make a snack if you’d like.”

As if on cue, his stomach growls. She giggles, moving him off her body to walk to the kitchen. Veronica, Toni, and Reggie are standing by the counter huddled together, pouring honey into a large bowl.

“Betty! Jughead!” Reggie greets them, walking away from the girls. 

Betty tries to make eye contact with Toni, but she’s focused intently on mixing together the contents of the bowl.She hasn’t tried to talk to Toni. Betty knows Toni doesn’t like her all that much, and she doesn’t blame her. They were never close, only seeing each other with the presence of Cheryl or Jughead with them, but Betty _likes_ Toni. It’s a shame Toni can’t stand to even look at her. 

“What are you doing?” Jughead asks, looking skeptically at the bowl. The combination of ingredients has made the contents of the bowl green, and the consistency is clumpy. “Are you making guacamole? I’ll get the chips out.”

Reggie stops him as Jughead moves to the cabinet. “It’s not food, dumbass. It’s a face mask.”

Jughead scrunches his nose up, moving back beside Betty. “Why are you putting that on your face? It looks disgusting.”

“It has honey,” Veronica informs him. “It moisturizes your skin.” 

“Do you have enough for two more severely dehydrated faces?” Betty asks, pointedly not looking at Jughead. 

Veronica grins wickedly. “Of course.”

\---

They spend the rest of Wednesday just lounging around and talking. Toni has spoken to her a total of 7 times, 4 indirectly and 3 directly.

Betty counts it as a win. 

On Thursday, they all collectively decide to sleep in, waking up only in the PM hours. It’s 4 o’clock when Betty finally trudges to the kitchen, finding Cheryl sipping blithely on a bottle of wine. 

Betty, and the rest of their friends, join her. Unsurprisingly, Cheryl is a mean drunk.

Betty wakes up early on Friday, limbs loosely wrapped around Jughead’s. She’s been awake for a while, tracing small shapes on Jughead’s skin as he rests. He’s beautiful. Slivers of soft light escape the blinds that she hasn’t bothered to draw open; they gently paint his face like a canvas.

She sighs softly, retracting her hands from his body and cuddling into him closer. On instinct, his arms wrap around her, bringing her closer. 

“Are you awake?” she whispers into his bare chest. Mars comes up to cuddle in between them, his tail flicking against her bare leg.

He groans, voice raspy from the early morning. “Barely.”

She rolls onto her back, her head resting on his arm. “Tomorrow is our last day.”

She doesn’t look at him but she knows he’s looking at her. “Yeah,” is all he says. 

“Thoughts?” she probes, turning onto her side and resting her head in her palm. 

Jughead shrugs. “It is what it is. As long as I spend my last minutes with you, I’ll die a happy man.”

Betty grins. “You’re a goof,” she says, getting up from the bed. His shirt, (the only article of clothing she’s wearing) comes up to only her mid-thigh so she opts for a pair of shorts and wanders out of the room. 

The living room and kitchen area are both empty so Betty can make coffee in peace, without fear of Veronica forcing Toni to speak to her. She’s been doing that a lot. Asking Betty questions for Toni, telling Toni things about Betty that Toni doesn’t need to know.

Betty appreciates the effort, but it’s getting a bit awkward now. She knows Toni doesn’t want to talk to her and Betty isn’t going to make her.

She prepares coffee for her and Jughead, carefully walking back to their room to not drop any. 

“Is that coffee?” he asks when she enters. He’s fully awake now, sitting against the headboard and scrolling through his phone while absentmindedly stroking Mars’s fur.

She nods, handing him a cup then sliding into bed with him. He opens his arm, inviting her in. She cuddles up next to him, peeking at his phone. 

He’s scrolling through Instagram -- his personal, not his famous author one -- mindlessly, until his fingers stop.

She feels him tense up under her, so she squints, looking at the screen. 

It’s Archie in one of their mutual friends’ posts. He's surrounded by friends, a petite brunette hanging from his arm. He looks happy. 

Jughead shuts his phone off and places it on the bedside table. His arm goes stiff around Betty’s shoulders.

“Jug?” she asks gently. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he says flatly. 

“Well obviously you’re not okay--”

“I’m _fine_ , Betty.”

He slips out from under her, leaving her alone on the bed. He pads out of the bedroom, probably heading for the kitchen. 

She thinks about going after him but decides against it. It seems like he should just be alone now. 

“Cousin,” Cheryl’s voice says. Betty turns to the door, seeing Cheryl standing in the doorway. “Can I come in?”

Betty nods. “Yeah, of course.”

Cheryl sits gingerly on the bed. “Are these...clean?”

Betty giggles. “Probably not.”

Cheryl scrunches her nose in disgust but pulls Betty towards her. Cheryl laces their fingers together, moving Betty’s head to rest on her shoulder. 

“Everything alright with you and Jughead?” she asks.

Betty shrugs. “I don’t know. He saw a picture of Archie on Instagram and then shut down.”

Cheryl squeezes Betty’s hand with her own. “Betty, darling, you have to understand.”

“I do,” Betty insists. “I get it. But how am I supposed to fix things if he won’t talk to me, Cher?”

Cheryl hums, placing her chin on top of Betty’s hair. “Let him cool down. He loves you, babe. No doubt about it.”

Betty smiles, turning to wrap Cheryl in a warm hug. “Thank you.”

Cheryl pats Betty’s back rigidly. “Alright, let go of me. And change these sheets. Your room smells like sex.”

\---

Betty waits an hour before trying to talk to him again. She finds him on the balcony, another cup of coffee in his hand.

“You’re drinking a lot of caffeine,” she says as she steps into the fresh air. 

He doesn’t acknowledge her, keeping his gaze on the city skyline. 

“Talk to me, Jug,” she pleads, taking a seat on the chair next to him. “What can I do to make you trust me?”

He waits a few moments before answering. “Nothing. You can’t do anything in less than 24 hours, Betty. And that’s all we have.”

Betty sighs, throwing her head back. “You’re impossible.”

He turns to her -- _finally_ \--shocked. “ _I'm_ impossible? I have trust issues Betty, that's not my fault.”

She knows he wants to say _it's yours,_ but chooses not to dwell on it. 

“Jesus, Jughead, that’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?”

They’ve both gotten out of their seats and are standing near the railing. Betty takes a deep breath. She doesn’t want this to escalate. She wants to spend their last day with their friends, relaxing and talking. Not fighting. 

“I love you, and I just want you to talk to me,” she says simply. “And I don’t like fighting with you.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “We were fighting?”

Betty groans, throwing her hands in the air and walking off the balcony.

\---

He makes it up to her with food and sex. And some communication. 

They stay in bed for the rest of the day, talking. A little bit about their pasts but more about their presents. What they were doing before the world went into a state of frenzy.

She tells him about her job as a PI (Jughead says he knew she would go into investigating), and he tells her about his book.

They don’t talk about how he didn’t mention her in his tale of Riverdale’s woes. It’s unimportant. They’re here and they’re together. 

Friday evening fades into Saturday morning. Betty is awake at 10 AM, rolling onto her back and out of Jughead’s embrace.

She rises from the bed, but instead of going to the kitchen for coffee as she usually does, she makes her way to Veronica and Reggie’s room. Mars follows closely behind her, tail swishing back and forth in a morning greeting.

She knocks, waits for a response, and when she doesn’t get one she opens the door anyway.

Veronica is tangled up in Reggie’s arms. She imagines this is how she and Jughead look. They’re both clothed, thankfully, and her best friend looks so peaceful Betty almost doesn’t want to wake her.

“Ronnie,” she whispers, gently nudging Veronica’s shoulder. “Vee, wake up.”

Veronica makes a small mewling side, rolling to face Betty. 

“Veronica,” Betty says a little louder. 

Nothing. 

Sighing, Betty stands up from her crouch. That’s fine. She just wants to spend some time with Veronica before they both _die._

“Betty?” Veronica says groggily.

Grinning, Betty pulls Veronica out of bed. “Get up, get dressed! We’re having a girls' day!”

“Huh?”

Betty shoves her into the bathroom. “I’ll be back in ten!”

\---

Betty’s girls' day consists of the men too. Reggie participates willingly, letting Cheryl do his hair while Toni and Veronica apply a number of masks to his face.

Jughead is a little harder to convince. When he walked into the living room to the sight of multi-colored mush being applied on faces, he almost walked right back into the bedroom. Betty managed to persuade him, assuring him repeatedly that they would not be putting anything on his face.

She’s currently painting his nails while waiting for her facemask to dry. He chose a shade of purple so deep it almost looks black, but it fits him. She looks up at him and sees he’s already looking at her, smiling. She blushes, ducking her head back down to focus on his hands. 

“Done!” she says minutes later. “You can’t use your hands for at least ten minutes.”

Jughead exhales dramatically, falling back onto the sofa cushions. “How on earth am I supposed to kiss you?”

Betty grins, propping herself up on her already manicured hands (Jughead painted them; they’re a pretty lavender color), then leans towards him to place a light peck on his lips.

He hums contentedly. “That works.”

\---

They have their last dinner at 7 PM. The only thing left in the penthouse are multiple packets of ramen, so that’s what they have. Veronica lets them finish her whipped cream for dessert.

At 8 PM, they cry together -- even Cheryl. Veronica tries to say goodbye, but Toni throws a pillow at her, effectively shutting her up. 

“Let's just not,” Toni says. “It’s only going to make us more upset.”

At 11 PM, they make their way to the roof of the building, bringing all the blankets and pillows up with them. Veronica and Reggie settle down facing west, Cheryl and Toni south, and Betty and Jughead east. Mars jumps up onto Jughead’s lap, cuddling into him.

Betty always sits facing the east so she can see the sunrise. It doesn’t get past her that she won’t be able to do that ever again. 

Her and Jughead sit mostly in silence, occasionally making casual talk, as if the world isn’t ending in an hour.

Betty checks her watch. 11:55 PM. Five minutes left on this world with Jughead and their friends. The world is tranquil; New York seems to have finally accepted that this is the end.

Betty is calm too. She’s always felt at one with the city.

“Betty,” Jughead says softly. “Talk to me.”

She pauses before speaking. “Tell me what our life would’ve been like. If I hadn’t made a stupid mistake or if I had called. Tell me the what-ifs.”

Jughead smiles down at her, cuddling her closer in the blankets. “We would’ve tried long-distance,” he starts. “And we would’ve made it through. We would live together, in a city, not a small town. We’d have two cats, Mars and one other. We would’ve named her Persephone.” 

Betty smiles. 11:57 PM. Jughead’s voice lowers into a whisper. “I would’ve proposed to you in our apartment. You would say yes, of course, and we would get married whenever the hell we wanted. Maybe we’d wait months, maybe years. Whatever would have worked for the both of is. We’d have children, however many you want to give me. We’d renew our vows, maybe ten or twenty years later. And we’d grow old together, sitting on a balcony and sipping lemonade.”

A tear slips down Betty’s cheek. “I’m sorry, Jug. I’m so sorry we couldn’t have that.”

11:58 PM.

He brings a thumb to her face, wiping the tear away. “I love you.”

“I love you,” she echos back. She can’t get any closer to him but she wants to. Her friends, the ones she loves so dearly, are just within feet of her. For the first time in such a long time, she’s no longer just content; she’s happy.

Jughead places his lips on the top of her head, and she pretends she doesn’t feel a wet drop on her scalp. 

“I wish we could have had more time,” he whispers. 

30 seconds. 

“I love you,” she repeats, for the last time. He doesn’t say it back, he doesn’t have to. She knows. 

Betty settles her head in the crook of Jughead’s neck and closes her eyes. She doesn’t look at her watch, she doesn’t open her eyes. 

She would spend forever with him if she could. When she’s with him, she’s both vulnerable and secure at the same time; he makes her feel loved, every second he’s with him. 

20 seconds. 

She wants to look up and open her eyes to take in the beauty of the city once more but she can’t. She knows if she does she’ll break the perfect bubble they have. Her last seconds with the only person she’s ever truly loved like this.

“Maybe in our next life we can have more time,” he whispers. 

She gives in to the tears, silently sobbing against Jughead. His hand moves to her back, rubbing it soothingly. 

“I love you. Today, tomorrow, forever.”

He doesn’t correct her in the fact that there is no tomorrow. 

They’ve got about five seconds.

He laces their fingers together, squeezing tightly as the world dissolves around them.

None of that matters -- not when he’s holding her like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo. yo!
> 
> how neat is this?? more than two and a half months later and this is finally out in the voiddddd! its been a rollercoaster indeed, but i love this story so thank you! for reading!
> 
> i also love sadie. sadie is a wonderful human and she deserves the world and more for being as wonderful as she is <3
> 
> and of course lisa (who also made me a gorg mood board) , kate, anna and janet -- this story is essentially yours, as well. sprinkled throughout this story are little tidbits of our conversations and ideas that i've bounced off of you guys. my forevah cheerleaders, i adore you <3
> 
> extra special thanks to (can you guess?) janet, because...she's janet. do i need any more reasoning?? (for answering my numerous questions on cats and edibles and...other things...)
> 
> i so hope you enjoyed this becuase i had the time of my life writing it. drop a comment and a kudos and find me on tumblr at [@latenightcoffeetalks](https://latenightcoffeetalks.tumblr.com/) <3
> 
> also -- chapter title from it's not living (if it's not with you) by the 1975

**Author's Note:**

> leave a comment and a kudos and find me on tumblr [@latenightcoffeetalks](https://latenightcoffeetalks.tumblr.com/)!


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